


sadshots

by summerprincess (notjustalittlegirl)



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bullying, DO NOT COME LOOKING FOR FLUFF, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Break Up, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, when your friends are being dicks but don't realize it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:20:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27340069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustalittlegirl/pseuds/summerprincess
Summary: my depressed ass has a lot of ideas for sad as fuck things that i want to write, and so here we are. the angst queen has returned to town
Relationships: Kristie Mewis & Sam Mewis, Lindsey Horan/Emily Sonnett, Rachel Daly/Kristie Mewis
Comments: 12
Kudos: 53





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> In case the summary didn't make it obvious enough, don't come here looking for fluff- although fluff will sporadically appear. this is partially an outlet for me, to write stuff that i can't wrangle to work with wsapos or don't want to write there. feel free to leave requests, but life holds no guarantees and neither do i. 
> 
> all chapter titles will most likely be a song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After months of holding it together, Kristie falls apart. Luckily, she has someone to catch her. 
> 
> Chapter title: Home by Gabrielle Aplin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter implies that Dewis have broken up, but here's my HUGE disclaimer: I don't know if that's true. Please do not take this as confirmation of any sort. Also, if they are, I do not know how it went down. Do not come at me. Thanks :)

If, fifteen years ago, someone had told a teenage Kristie Mewis that her little sister was going to become her best friend, she would have said they were insane. Then, just because Sam had borrowed her sweater and spilled orange juice on it, she would have probably ordered another coffee at Dunkin Donuts, making sure to add as many specific instructions as possible just to watch her sister be forced to make it for her with a tight smile on her face which showed how desperately she wanted to swear at her, but couldn't because she was at work. 

Sam had been a bit of a pest to Kristie fifteen years ago, but now (as would made teenage Kristie die of shame) there was no one else she'd rather see in the entire world. 

Yep, she had reached _that_ point in her life, where the only person that might top her sister on the best friend list was her fucking dog. 

She hadn't seen Sam in months, and so the bone crushing hug was especially welcome as she walked into the team hotel's lobby in the Netherlands with the rest of the teammates who had come from the states. 

"Hey," said Sam. "How are you doing?"

That was certainly the question. Every time Kristie stopped to think too hard about it, her heart started to hurt a bit. Normally she was able to hold the tears at bay, because why the _fuck_ should she be crying, but (and she would blame it on the jetlag if anyone asked later) this time, she was on the brink of losing it. 

When her sister didn't answer, Sam looked down at Kristie's face, buried in her shoulder from the hug. She pulled back slightly, just so she could make sure she wasn't hallucinating and, indeed, found that she wasn't. Kristie was definitely starting to cry. 

Normally, Sam wasn't good with tears. They made her anxious. She never knew what to do. 

But somehow, this time, she thought she might. 

"Oh," she said softly, giving Lynn and Abby a quick head shake and a look that promised they'd catch up later. "Kris, come on. Let's go upstairs." 

Most everyone else was too busy with reunions to follow, and so they managed to get an elevator to themselves. Sam pulled Kristie along as the elder dragged her bag, an arm around her shoulders until they reached Sam's room. 

"What's wrong?"

Kristie didn't answer right away, just dropped her bag and let Sam wrap her arms around her again. She wanted to kick herself for breaking down, but there was something about being reunited with the person she trusted implicitly more than any other that had just... opened the hole in her chest. 

"I... F-Fuck," she cried, wanting both to flee from the situation that had her sobbing like a baby as her little sister stroked her back comfortingly and to never ever leave this room again. 

"Oh, Kris," said Sam, a suspicion popping into her brain as to what might be the trouble. "You haven't let it in yet, have you?"

They both knew what she was talking about- the specter that haunted the air around Kristie and had for the past several months. Sam hadn't seen her sister beyond a video call since _it_ had happened, and so she hadn't been able to quite see how on edge Kristie was. 

As much as Kristie wanted to deny it, wanted to avoid a dumb conversation about her _feelings_ by claiming that yes, she had already processed it, that she'd been able to cry in a friend's arms almost as soon as it happened, she knew that Sam wouldn't buy it for a second. Steph wasn't exactly the crying-and-talking-about-feelings type of best friend, after all. 

So, she shook her head. 

"Oh," said Sam, pulling her sister close and letting her sob into her shoulder, feel the heartbreak she'd been keeping locked inside herself for over two months. "Oh, Kristie, I'm so sorry."

The younger was wracking her brains, trying to figure out what to do as she held her sister close, knowing that she needed her right now. Needed a safe place to cry, away from all the potential judgement and questions of their well-meaning teammates. 

"Fuck," whispered Kristie through her tears. "It hurts so bad, Sammy."

Sam felt a flash of anger in her chest and vowed that, the next time Man City came up against West Ham, Rachel Daly was in for the slide tackle of her life, referee be fucking damned. She rubbed Kristie's back, trying to make the tears stop- they had to stop before they could talk, after all. 

"I know," said Sam. "I know, Kris. Shh, it's alright. It's gonna be okay."

They sat there while Kristie cried, letting in the hurt that had been clawing at her ever since Rachel left, in a place that made her feel as safe as she had in months. Eventually, the tears all soaked into Sam's old UCLA sweatshirt, she gave a final sniffle and a hiccup. 

"Fuck," she whispered again, sounding hoarse. "Shit, Sam, I'm so-"

"You don't need to apologize," interrupted Sam. "You haven't been good at apologizing to me our whole lives, so you don't need to start now."

Kristie gave a tiny laugh- _that_ was definitely true. 

But then the laugh was gone, and her heart was sinking back into her stomach. It may have felt oddly good to cry, especially with someone who wouldn't judge her, but that didn't change the fact that the _one relationship_ that she had been waiting for her whole life, the one girl who she could finally be herself with, had slipped from her grasp, and she had no idea if she was holding a yoyo string or a rock. 

"I just..." she said. "I j-just wish I..."

She trailed off, unable to find her words. Or, at least, words that wouldn't send her into tears again. But Sam understood. 

"I know," she said. "It's the fucking worst. But hey, at least you're the custodial parent!"

Kristie laughed again- she was indeed. Her smile lingered a bit longer this time, imagining Dexi chilling out at Steph's house. She would have to get pictures from her friend later, and maybe video call her so that her precious angel didn't forget about her while she was away!

But then, as it always had lately when she found something to be happy about, the weight crushed her chest once again. Sam exhaled, pulled Kristie against her side and continuing to rub her shoulders. The older sister felt so small, not only in terms of having just finished sobbing about her breakup like she was in high school but also as compared to her giant of a sister, who was keeping her tucked against her the way their mother had when she was little and had needed comfort. 

"Do you remember," said Sam suddenly after a minute or two of silence. "When I was fourteen, and my first boyfriend dumped me?"

Kristie nodded- she had been a bit relieved, because she hadn't been able to understand what Sam found so attractive about a boy with acne covering every inch of his face, who smelled like cafeteria fishsticks, who _had_ to be brought up in _every. single. dinner. conversation._ and who she had, frankly, wanted to evict from her house. 

When Sam had come home crying after school, Melissa Mewis had tried her best to get her younger daughter to open up but had eventually realized that it wasn't happening. And so, desperate to comfort her youngest, had sent Kristie in with a mug of cocoa and orders to try her best. 

"Yeah," said Kristie. "I told you that he was stupid and that you were way too good for him. And I think I threatened to throat punch him."

Sam nodded, smiling a bit at the memory- Kristie had, indeed, threatened to throat punch him and squeeze his acne cream all over his biology binder. That had gotten her to take the cocoa, at least. 

"Yes you did," said Sam. "But then, you told me that it would all be okay, and that it was okay to be sad for a while. And guess what, now it's my turn to tell you that. It's gonna be okay, Kristie. We don't know what's gonna happen in the future, but even if you and Rachel don't wind up back together, you're gonna be okay. She doesn't define you, and- and this is gonna sound _so_ cliche- it's honestly her loss."

Kristie had to suppress an eye roll- that was a tired line, and Sam knew it.

"Hush," said Sam, blushing. "It's true! You might be a total fucking weirdo sometimes-"

"Hey!" Kristie interjected, smacking her sister playfully. 

"But really, you're pretty cool. And I know you love her, but she's a fucking idiot if she doesn't see that."

"Jesus, Sam," said Kristie with a laugh. "Can you _get_ any more high school?"

From the smile on her sister's face, Sam knew that she was joking. They both laughed for a moment, and then Sam squeezed Kristie one more time. 

"Thank you," whispered the elder. "For... For letting me fall apart."

"Always," said Sam. "Now, wanna see some pictures of your nephew?"

Kristie all but squealed with delight as Sam pulled out her phone, scrolling through the latest pictures of the fluffy mass that was Finn. And, in a hotel in the Netherlands, Kristie felt more at home than she had since Rachel left. Houston may have been home, but so was Sam. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, not all chapters will have this much fluff. This one was born out of this being the longest I've ever been away from my parents and brother (and especially my dogs), and missing them like crazy. Several side notes, in case anyone cares about my life as inspirations for some details lol:  
> \- As the older sibling, I was very pissed when my little brother got taller than me.  
> \- The second anyone fucks with my little brother, I will find a way to destroy them. I'm the only one who's allowed to make fun of that kid lol  
> \- Whenever my brother gets upset, my parents always want me to talk to him because they say he looks up to me. Sometimes it's effective lol, sometimes it isn't.  
> \- I finally got the little brat to admit that he misses me muahahaha time to lord that over him for the rest of our lives  
> \- The acne cream on the biology homework was inspired by my freshman year, when my friend C got dumped by a mutual friend of all of ours who had been using her to get another girl and so me and my friend L got a side salad from the caf and pretty much threw it at him (Unfortunately L did not have good aim and so it landed on another table and we were the 'salad girls' for the rest of the year). It's the thought that counts.


	2. The Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it used to be so easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> incredibly short.
> 
> disclaimer: i've been avoiding social media mostly, and i checked instagram for the first time in several days today, so idk if there's been soran content. sorry lol
> 
> chapter title: The Distance by Aly & AJ  
> (lyrics fit the vibe, but imagine it slow)

There are a lot of things she wants to say, but she isn't sure that she has the words for them. 

Not that it matters, because not many people seem to want to hear them. 

She feels... _changed,_ in a way, as if, in the months they've been apart, she's forgotten how to interact with her friends. With Mal, who's had an unstable year. With Sam and Rose who, although she's seen them at Champions League games, now have secrets and memories which don't include her. 

With Lindsey, who seems to have had no trouble replacing her. 

She knows that it was partially the distance- the fact that her replacement in every sense of the word was so convenient, so admiring of Lindsey, so _there._ There, in a way that Emily couldn't be, being thousands of miles away. But she thought that, at camp at least, there would be some sense of normalcy. 

Normalcy. It's been a bit of a buzz word this year, and she curses herself for even thinking it. She's an adult. She should have known better than to imagine that things between her and her best friend could ever go back to normal. 

She had imagined their reunion so many times in her head, and it had always involved seeing each other across a room, dropping bags and jumping into each others' arms; or waiting at the airport and sharing a long hug; or maybe winding up with adjoining rooms and keeping the dividing door open, allowing them to really _talk_ for the first time in months. 

She hadn't imagined the hug feeling so _awkward._ Hadn't imagined her replacement there, the nod and polite greeting (because it really wasn't her fault, after all), before trying to open up a conversation clearly started earlier to try and include her. Hadn't imagined that she would feel relieved to get to her room, to be able to shut the door and lie down and cry, not the happy tears she had been imagining, but slow ones where every droplet squeezed her chest just a little bit harder. 

Kelley keeps giving her sympathetic looks, and the older woman sometimes grasps her hand beneath the table when another inside joke pops up which doesn't include her. That makes it a little better at least, knowing that Kelley is still in her corner. They'll have plenty of time to spend together in the coming months, after all. But Kelley is older- she's seen this happen before. The separations, which were supposed to be temporary, creating a gap between two friends further than the longest road. 

She knows that she should stay off socials, because they only make everything worse. However, that doesn't stop her from opening them, then quickly closing them feeling sick to her stomach, wanting to throw her phone across the room and slide beneath her covers, trying to think positive thoughts (like how she'll get to spend the season with Kelley, how Mal seems to be relaxing into camp and trying to pick up where the two of them left off, like how watching the Mewis sisters squabble playfully during dinner reminds her that she'll see Emma soon) but almost wishing she had never come back. 

Wanting to be here and not. Thinking longingly of the winter grays across the ocean, which matched her mood, while trying to soak in the Florida sunshine. 

Trying not to fucking cry whenever she sees her.

The worst part is, Lindsey doesn't seem to notice. Once, she would have picked up on her moods like a barometer, registering even the slightest change in pressure and making sure her friend was doing alright. Now, she just wants to scream, _Look at me! Look at me, please! Please, comfort me like you used to._

She doesn't do that, of course. Instead, she smiles and makes small talk, wanting nothing more than a hug from her best friend.

"Hey, Em," said Lindsey, patting her shoulder. 

There's a lot of things Emily wants to say. But in the end, all she says is

"Hey, Linds."


	3. Never Let Me Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> she drinks (do not read if you are triggered by discussion of suicidal thoughts)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE tw for this one: alcoholism, mentions of suicide and suicidal ideation. DO NOT READ if you think this will negatively affect your mental health. I was on the fence about even posting this, but it was just a bit of an old brain dump that I filled out a bit, and might delete later. Your mental health is the most important thing, okay?
> 
> Song is Never Let Me Go (Florence + The Machine)
> 
> Once more, TRIGGER WARNING.

Kelley doesn't like the word 'alcoholic.' 

It carries a certain connotation, images of meetings in the basements of churches flashing immediately into peoples' minds. 

_Hello,_ she imagines herself saying. _My name is Kelley, and I'm an alcoholic._

Nope. Definitely doesn't sound right. No matter what her sister says, she doesn't have to change. It's something just for her, alone in her room after a bad day, to help numb the pain for a while. 

Besides, the PR nightmare would be legendary if anyone found out, and probably cost her spot on the roster. And that was the last thing she needed right now. She's barely surviving as it is- she doesn't think that she could survive anything more. She thinks that the next thing might break her, what's left of her that isn't already broken, right down the middle. 

It's not like she hasn't thought about it before. Just drinking until she physically can't lift the bottle anymore. She hopes that she'd just pass out, that it wouldn't be painful. 

But she's never died before, so how the hell would she know? 

She wishes that she could be like Tobin, her undying faith getting her through everything. But Kelley has been slowly slipping away, wondering why the fuck any God who supposedly loves her would let her hurt like this. She doesn't go to church anymore- sometimes she misses it, but then she remembers that killing yourself is supposed to be some sort of unforgivable sin, and she can't stand the idea that ending this pain would just lead to an eternity full of more pain. 

Kelley takes another swig of her whiskey. It barely burns anymore, going down her throat. 

She holds onto Washington. Maybe in Washington she'll feel okay. She'll be closer to her parents, after all. But, then again, the thought of Dan and Karen seeing her like this makes her take another drink, knowing she wouldn't be able to handle the sadness in their eyes. They'll want to help, and she desperately wants help, but not anything that would make her parents look at her with disappointment. Because she was supposed to be their star. 

She doesn't know if she's one of those stars that just fades, blinking out into darkness, or one that goes supernova, imploding and destroying everything around her. She hopes its the former, so she can limit the damage that she'll cause. 

She knows that she's being morbid, even thinking any of this. She knows that it's more than enough to get her a slew of appointments with the team psych. But she's alone in her room- surely, she can think whatever the hell she wants. When she's alone like this, the only person she's hurting is herself. 

She doesn't realize that she's crying until she sees a tear drip down, creating a wet spot on the pillowcase. She wants to scoff at herself- _crying yourself to sleep again, O'Hara?_

It's become a bit of a regular thing, falling asleep in a pile of her own tears. 

She thinks back to Kelley from twenty, twenty five years ago. Such a happy kid, wandering around with a smile on her face, passing out hugs like they were chocolates on Valentine's Day, but never straying too far from home. Scraped knees, hurt feelings, lost games- nothing couldn't be fixed with a hug from her Mama. But her Mama isn't here. And it's not twenty five years ago anymore. Her mother's hugs can't fix it- they can't make it stop hurting like a band-aid or an ice cream cone. 

Kelley thinks of Alex- her best friend, now a Mom herself. She knows that Alex cares, worries about her still, but Alex has a precious little life to take care of now. A beautiful girl, who carries the future in her heart. That's the way it should be. It doesn't mean that she doesn't wish she could be Charlie, just for a moment- wide-eyed and hopeful again, safe and loved. 

She loves the water- if all this alcohol doesn't kill her first, she thinks that she might go down to Florida. See Alex, give Charlie a hug, tell them both that she'll always love them (even if Charlie won't remember), then maybe take her surfboard out and stare up at the evening sky, rocked by the ocean waves, watching the stars come out. Crashing, cleansing, beautiful. 

Peaceful. 

She won't, of course. What she will do is keep drinking, and go to sleep with tears in her eyes, and wake up in the morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're struggling, please reach out to someone. People love you. I love each and every one of you. 
> 
> I was nervous about posting this, cause it's very personal, so please do not come at me in the comments.
> 
> Your mental health is important. Now go read something fluffy.


	4. Cool Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's a sick feeling, knowing that they're all laughing at her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song: cool kids by echosmith

The best way that Jordan can describe the feeling she gets in moments like these is _sick._

Physically _ill,_ with her knotted stomach trying to escape through her throat, thick with emotion.

When there's something that she _knows_ she doesn't get, but everyone around her does, and it quickly becomes a joke at her expense. When they make fun of the blank look on her face as she takes thirty seconds to try and puzzle out what everyone else understood immediately, and sometimes doesn't even come up with it. Sometimes they explain it to her, laughing as they go, but often they leave her wondering, their conversation having already moved on, leaving her in the dust and forcing her to add the latest thing that she just doesn't _quite_ understand to the long list of things she doesn't quite get, or can't quite remember. 

She sometimes pretends that she understands, but they can usually see right through her, and they're laughing anyway. 

(It always ends up with someone laughing at her).

 _"Someone explain it to Jordan,"_ they'll always say, shaking their heads fondly as she pretends she's not wilting inside. _"She's taken a few too many headers."_

Which doesn't even make sense to her- she's the shortest one out of all of them. But she does know exactly where the dark pit in her stomach comes from. 

She knows that they don't mean it maliciously- they're her best friends, after all, and she loves them all to bits- but each time she doesn't get a joke, and becomes the joke herself, her stomach lurches and her chest squeezes, and she tries not to flush with humiliation. She doesn't need to give them any more ammunition to make fun of her, as lovingly as they might mean it. The one time she didn't quite manage to hide her emotions, the time she'd looked down at the table and wasn't able to hold back the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, they'd all worried about her. And she fucking hates herself for not speaking up right there. _Right there._

 _"Stop making fun of me,"_ she'd wanted to say, but the words had gotten caught in her throat, and she'd pretended that she was upset about a sad story she'd seen online. Leah had given her a hug, and the conversation had continued as if nothing had ever happened. 

She wants to be _in on_ the joke, not _be_ the joke, and whenever she feels the jerking, empty pit in her stomach telling her that they're making fun of her, that she's the butt of the joke again, she _hates_ her brain. She hates it so fucking much, and she wants to claw her head open and just fucking fix it. She wants to ask it why, why she can't just _understand,_ but it never answers her. 

And why the fuck would it? It can barely get her through a normal conversation without forgetting something simple, there's no way that it could possibly tackle something as existential as that. 

Today, sitting in the locker room with her teammates, she misses another joke. She tries to laugh along anyway, but someone notices the vacant gaze in her eyes as she tries to puzzle it out quickly, quickly enough to avoid-

"Oh, honey," says Leah condescendingly, ruffling her girlfriend's hair as Jordan ducks just quickly enough to avoid the younger seeing her humiliated blush. "It's okay, I'll explain later."

(She barely ever lets Leah see her cry, even though her knows she won't love her any less for it).

"Girl," says Katie, her friendly tone not making up for the embarrassment and hurt she's obliviously causing. "Sometimes I worry about you."

Jordan forces a laugh, but waits a moment for the group's attention to turn away from her to flee the room, wrapping her arms around herself and trying desperately not to cry. 

"I'm not stupid," she whispers to herself like a mantra, hoping that, if she _just_ says it enough, she'll finally believe it. "I'm not stupid, I'm not stupid."

But her own shaky voice is the only one standing on that side, against the rest of the world, laughing at stupid Jordan.

She swallows around the worst of the lump in the throat as she enters the restroom, staring at herself in the mirror and furiously wiping the few tears which had managed to escape the corners of her eyes until there's barely a trace.

Sometimes she wonders if she's just overreacting. Maybe she's just too sensitive. She knows that these girls love her. They've seen her at her worst, and they love her anyway. 

But, when they're all laughing at her, and she's trying to keep a lid on the pit in her stomach that makes her want to sob, it's hard to remember that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, feel free to skip the end notes if you're not interested in my life lol:
> 
> So much of this chapter was inspired by my own experiences in (where else?) middle school. I feel now like this is a pretty common thing especially for girls, where there's always one girl in a group of friends who ends up as the butt of the joke. Hi, that was definitely me (although I didn't quite realize it at the time). I was naive and inexperienced in everything, and DEFINITELY the DUFF of my friend group (of five. odd numbers are bad in friend groups lol). I literally went to Europe for four months and missed the beginning of 8th grade, and then (surprise, surprise), they'd replaced me. Luckily, I had other friends, and I actually reconnected with one of my old friends after he came out as trans and the two of us were both officers for our high school's GSA (and he's an amazing fucking person), and another one always tells me happy birthday, so happy ending!


End file.
